I've Been Looking For A Lover (thought i'd find her in a bottle)
by thetideisrising
Summary: A glimpse at a Ressler drug addiction post Tom Connolly. Keenler. TW: addiction and overdose.


**Hey guys, I've been toying with the idea of this for a while, and I think that the writers may reintroduce Ressler's drug addiction in season three, which would be both painful and awesome to watch because he suffers so beautifully. I wrote this to Ed Sheeran's Bloodstream which is probably Ressler's theme song for the first half of season two. I don't own either The Blacklist or Bloodstream.**

 _I've got sinning on my mind._

"Sir."

Ressler abruptly turned his head to face Aram. "What," he barked, his voice a blade.

Aram cleared his throat, wincing internally. "We found them sir, they were in a nice lake chateau in Lake Tahoe."

"Get me on the next flight," he grumbled, turning toward their office to grab his go bag, as Aram yelled out; "there's one departing from Regan in thirty minutes!"

He stumbled into the room, slamming the door behind him, unaware of the glance of concern shared between Aram and Samar in his absence.

Shades drawn, he fumbled for the bottle hidden beneath her scarf and grasped it, sliding it into his inner blazer pocket with ease and exiting the room. Rushing into the bathroom, his hand immediately found the bottle once more, uncapping it and pouring four of his deadly lifelines into the palm of his hand. He can't remember when he became so dependent on the damn things, he only ever needed them after Audrey and Meera and –

Oh.

 _Oh._

It's because she isn't there.

He never noticed it before, but perhaps she was his saving grace.

 _Colored crimson in my eyes._

He swallowed the pills, one by one, before he could think better of it, splashing water into his face. He capped the bottle and returned it to its sacred place in his blazer, drying his face and exiting the bathroom.

Clutching his go bag tightly, he marched through the war room and to the elevator, pinching the bridge of his nose as the doors closed. The feeling in the pit of his stomach was not a good one, and though she may have chalked it up to the pills if she were there, he knows that it's the anxiety about finding her before the task force does because even though it's against everything he's worked for and everything he knows, deep down, he thinks ( _knows)_ that she's innocent.

That even though it was brilliantly planned and flawless, it was just a set-up.

A fucking good set-up.

One that may or may not have taken away the faith in humanity that she had reinstalled in him after Audrey.

 _How'd I get so faded?_

Driving to the airport, he wanted to pound his head on the steering wheel. First Audrey, then Meera then –

 _Her._

He can't even say her name without feeling guilty for breaking the promise he made when he was happy and had her. But the pills made him feel _alive._ And maybe they can't fill the void that opened in his chest when she ran, but they did a damn good job of smoothing the edges.

Pulling into the airport, he valeted his Sudan, and sprinted past security, a simple flash of his badge and telling a very adamant TSA officer that he was looking for FBI's most wanted Raymond Reddington, thank you very much, and he did not need this bullshit, he just needed to reach his flight. (That and not needing his Oxy to be confiscated) And of course that flight was coach because it was last minute. Which meant that he would have to sit next to fat men and screaming babies for the next five hours. Great.

2 hours and thirty minutes in, he went to the bathroom, which of course started his whole inner debacle over whether he should or shouldn't get another hit. He decided that two more shouldn't cause any more trouble, he could start feeling the pain of nearing her location and if he needed to bring her in, then he couldn't become compromised by his emotional vendetta.

 _One or two could free my mind._

He arrived at the location Samar had sent him, four hours later, eyes bloodshot and face pale as the effects of his hit began to take hold. Stumbling to the door of the chateau, (he's pretty sure it's Red's, it's elegant and a little too much for his or her tastes) he trys the lock, and for some ungodly reason it's unlocked. (he'll make sure to get on Red for not doing as well as a job of protecting her)

 _I feel the chemicals burning in my bloodstream_

The place is abandoned, and he curses himself for coming. He just wasted five hours on a plane full of snot and snoring.

 _Tell me when it kicks in._

He's not sure when it started, but the room is starting to spin around him, and he feels a slight buzz in his blood as his heart begins to slow. Falling to the floor, his breaths began to shallow and his eyes began to droop.

He doesn't even register the _"Don!"_ that's screamed in a voice that reminds him of Liz.

Liz.

He doesn't even have the mental capacity to block her name from his mind and suddenly she fills all of his thoughts as the world fades from around him.

 _This is how it ends_

 _I feel the chemicals burn in my bloodstream_

 _Fading out again_

 _I feel the chemicals burn in my bloodstream_

 _So, tell me when it kicks in._

He wakes to a feather light touch above his right brow, his eyes opening slightly to see her worried face.

"L-Liz?" he croaked, and she responded by shushing him, and pressing her lips to the span of his face, touching every place but his lips, and as he felt the salty tears that streaked down both of their faces he felt more complete than he did with the little devils that invaded his left breast pocket. She pulled away, her face hovering a little more than six inches away from his, her brow furrowed in concern.

"How?" he asked, confused on how she could be here if she was on the FBI's most wanted list, even though he wasn't sure if he was even in the hospital.

"Mr. Kaplan tended to you," she replied, her voice beginning to crack. "We had initially planned to kidnap you, Red and I needed your input on something, and so we leaked the address to Aram hoping that a task force would come. When we found out that it was just you, we went to collect you and I got there just in time before you –"

She shook her head at him, and he nearly moaned at the sound of her voice.

"You fucking scared me Ress," she admitted, fresh tears falling. "Why'd you do it?"

His heart broke for her.

 _Broken hearted lover._

He had been so caught up in not feeling any pain that he had forgotten that there were still others who cared. Others like her.

"You were the only one left, Liz," he admitted, nearly smiling at the way her name rolled off of his tongue. "The only one who kept me sane. Suddenly, the bureau claimed that you were an assassin and it all happened so quickly that I just needed to feel numb, so I guess I took one and I lost. It was so easy, Liz," he whispered, his eyes pained. "To just take them, it was probably the easiest thing I've ever done. And letting go of you was the hardest thing I ever did."

She started to sob, and if he could move, she would be in his arms already.

"Just promise me you'll never do it again," she cried.

He nodded with newfound determination to never cause her pain again, and responded with a promising, "Never again."

She smiled a vibrant smile, the one she reserved just for him, and he was positive that nothing she could do could be more beautiful.

Until she kissed him.

He responded with a mixture of passion and love, and she pulled away after a few moments, resting her forehead against his.

"For later," she said.

"For later."

 _So tell me when it kicks in._

 **I hope you enjoyed! Please review! Xx I have a few other stories that I'm working on for these two so keep your eyes peeled.**


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